Beyond The Trees
by sojunari
Summary: Forks falls on the border that separates their people from native Quileute tribe territory, on the edge of a dark forest. In Forks' history, there was a time that the villagers lived in fear of werewolves. Marian, the Red brings the wolves' secrets, as well as the forest's to light. Medieval Era/Red Riding Hood AU (Jacob/OC centric) Rated M for later Chapters.
1. Even The Forest Has Secrets

Marian lived in a growing village called Forks. She, her father, mother and brother. Her father, Christoph, was s blacksmith. Her mother, Penelope, sold cloaks to the villagers. And, her young brother, Aaron, was only eight. Their only other living relative was her grandmother, Elisabeth. A widow, who lived alone in a cottage in the forest.

Marian was the eldest child of her family, at fifteen. She shared her parents looks; brown hair, dark eyes, and a light complexion. People called her beautiful, among the prettiest of the girls in their village, in fact. Her's was a hand sought after by many.

Forks lied on the edge of a dark forest. To the west lied the treaty-line that seperated their lands from native Quileute territory. To the east lied Mount Olympus' west peak. And, the forest surrounded from all sides. There was only one existing road from the rest of the kingdom, that forked at their village; hence it's name. It lead to Quileute territory on the western boundary, Amanda Park in the south, and Port Angeles in the northeast. Forks was the only large village that far north, on the west side of the mountain.

For centuries Forks had been plagued with werewolves, since the first days Forks was established, as only one small group of homes on the edge of the forest. Then was the first time they attacked, killing whole families, snatching children from their beds. Or so was said.

After time went on and the villagers refused to leave, they began sacrificing livestock to them. Ritually leaving cattle or swine as tribute for the wolves at each full moon, and afterwards the killings stopped.

The people of Forks adapted. They stuck together. The women would wash clothes by the river, in groups. The farmers would harvest their crops, in groups. The woodcutters would work only in the daylight, in groups. Never alone. From time to time people left by themselves in the forest would go missing, taken by the wolves, they would say. But, the villagers would blame the victim. _They shouldn't have been alone._

As Forks grew in size and population, the fear lessened. Less and less people went missing, less animals were sacificed, less people went in groups. When the deaths stopped, the worry stopped, and when the worry stopped, the fear stopped. They became merely stories.

Years passsed and Marian grew up in a time where the fear of the wolves was merely a whisper in the back of their minds. When she was young, she and her mother would make the long trip to her grandmother's home. Her father's mother, Elisabeth, lived alone in a cottage deep in the forest. After her husband's death she refused to return to Forks and live with her son and his family. She wanted to live freely while she was still valid, didn't want to conform to the rules and laws of society. Young Marian had always admired that, inspired by her grandmother's free spirit. The villagers of Forks considered Elisabeth a mad spinster.

After her twelfth name-day, she was allowed to make the journey alone. But her mother was sure to warn her, _"Don't talk to strangers. Don't stray from the path."_ From time to time little Aaron would accompany her, but that was a rare, as her mother considered him too young.

Twice a month Marian would make the long trek to her grandmother's cottage, by way of the forest path. She would leave at sunrise and reach Elisabeth's just before dusk, stopping only once at noon to eat. It was best to be out of the forest by nightfall, her parents would say, though her grandmother never seemed to fear. Even so, Marian knew there was something out there to fear. The forest had many secrets.


	2. Misconception

Come her fifteenth name-day, Marian had grown accustomed to the long journey to her grandmother's. Since twelve, she made the day-long trek to Elisabeth's cottage in the forest twice a month, each fortnight. In the past three years, Marian had seen few a traveler, in the forest. In fact, she'd seen only ten people, to date. Very few people travelled the forest path on the west side of the village of Forks.

Occasionally someone coming from a smaller village to the southwest or people who were lost coming from Amanda Park, but aside few people were willing to delve into the dark of the forest, not with the rumors and tales that surround it. Tales of werewolves, child-snatching witches, mountain trolls, and man-eating forest nymphs; tend to keep the common folk out of the depths of the Olympic forest.

From time to time she encountered friendly woodcutters, once or twice she had met a hunting party or two, those who entered the forest out of necessity. All of them thought brave of her, a young girl travelling alone in the dark forest.

That day was not unlike any other. Marian rose at dawn with the sun, washed her face and ate with her parents, as her young brother still slept. She dressed in her travel clothes. A sleeved tunic dress, deep wine hue in color, with a vertical-slit laced bodice. It was simple. Warm, as it was made from thick wool but it lacked the many layers of her common dress, which made it much easier for her to maneuver. Over it she donned the scarlet-red cloak her grandmother had made for her as a name-day gift, which earned her the nickname: Marian, the Red or Red as some affectionately called her.

The trip was no different as any had been. Her father had accompanied her to the edge of the forest, carrying her bag and her basket. She kissed him farewell and began the long journey on the winding forest path. Passing a group of woodcutters that she had grown to know over the years. The next several hours were alone as always, passing tree after tree.

At mid-day, when the sun was at high noon, she stopped on the other side of the spring as always, to take her lunch. There, she encountered a huntsman, whom commented that he couldn't have missed her, what with her startling, bright cloak. After sharing water with him, she continued her journey for another several hours, singing to herself as she went. Marian had learned to do this quietly, as she had once been mistaken for a nymph, supposedly trying to lure men with her loud singing (though she didn't think her singing voice melodic enough to be mistaken as such).

When she reached the massive willow that marked the three-quarters to her grandmother's house, she began to hear a pounding noise. She continued down the path, curious, but not enough so to stray from the road. The sound continued, louder as she went. Two other steady beats accompanied the first, so loud they shook the very trees.

Marian did not realize it was not the noise shaking the trees, but the hacking of a young man's axe on the opposite side of a large tree, just an arm's length from the path. Anxiously, she clutched the hunting knife her father had gifted her, on her twelfth name-day. Closer to the sound she grew, beginning to hear an ocassional grunt, and the sound of the tree creaking. Without warning, the tree caved under the pressure of it's own weight and fell onto the path, narrowly missing Marian. She screamed, jumping back and tripping over her own cloak, as the fallen tree landed merely inches from her feet.

Roused by the scream, a young man peeked his head around the row of trees, spotting a dark haired, light-skinned young woman next to the tree he'd falled. The young man made his way onto the path, past the fallen tree, and over to Marian.

He was tall and built, she observed, as he extended his hand out to her. He had russet skin, cropped, dark hair and was dressed in natural tones. He wore dark brown trousers, made of what appeared to buckskin, the common worn eggshell shirt, and a matching buckskin vest (of sorts). It was clear to Marian that he was a Quileute.

She'd never met one up close, but the settlers considered them to be a 'savage' people, who's society was not like that of the common people. In honesty she'd never known what to believe. But, regardless her mother had warned her of them as well. To run if she encountered one, not to speak to them, and to never trust them. This man, however, didn't look untrustworthy. He looked down at her with concern in her eyes, his hand still out for her to take, despite her staring.

"Are you alright?" He tried, in the common tongue. That throws her off for some reason, although all the people of the kingdom were required to speak the common language. Something about the Quileute people seemed so far from the people she lived amongst. But this strange man, standing before her, speaking the common tongue, acting civilized; it made the stories of vicious, savage natives seem so far away.

"Miss, were you harmed?" The young man asked, trying a second time, guessing she was probably paralyzed in fear. If not from nearly being crushed by a fallen tree, then likely from standing face to face with a native. Many people reacted that way to them, fear or violence.

Marian snapped out of her thoughts, looking up and taking his hand, "I'm alright." She laughed, as she pulled her onto her feet. She proceeded to dust off her tunic, cleaning herself of the leaves and dirt.

"That was a close call, madam. I should have been more watchful." The Quileute man commented, dusting himself off as well. In his hand other hand, he held an axe. Which made her wary at first, until she realized he'd been the one who'd cut down the tree. "I didn't even realize that was where the sound was coming from."

He laughs, picking up her fallen bag and basket, and handing them over to her. "Yes, a few of us came out to cut trees for firewood." He explained, and as if on cue, two other Quileute men step out from the tree line. "Everything alright here?"

The first one nodded, gesturing to Marian, "Aside from nearly crushing this young lady with a tree, we're good." The girl in question looks down, nodding. She feels a little intimidated, surrounded by three, huge, muscular Quileute men. "I should really be on my way." She told them, praying she wasn't being offensive, but they only nodded and the other two men disappeared back into the woods, leaving her with the first man.

"Be a little vigilant, there are a few others cutting trees near here." He turned back to his work, but not before giving her a lasting smirk, "You should be fine if you stay on the path."

When she reached her grandmother's, she told her of the friendly native (but not of his company). She would likely never tell her parents, as their opinion of the Quileutes was like much of the other settlers. But, Elisabeth, seemed to have no quarrel with them, telling Marian gleefully that she was lucky not to have been harmed by the falling tree and saying nothing more about it.

She doesn't know it, but that day was the first time, of several more to come, that Marian will meet the handsome and mysterious young Quileute man in the forest. But, her dreams seemed to predict it for her.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Leave a review, if you get the chance and tell me what you think of the direction of the story so far. Marian and Jake finally meet, though they have yet to introduce themselves, but no fear, it won't be the only time. ;) This is going to be a rated M story in later chapters, but not _much_ later. Just a warning to those who are wary of adult themes. And, also my disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and all it's characters. All OCs and the plot (for the most part) belong to me. Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed so far!


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